


An Orangered Envelope

by scripsi



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Internet, Mistaken Identity, Online Relationship, Secret Identity, You've Got Mail AU, reddit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 12:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4060570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scripsi/pseuds/scripsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A You’ve Got Mail AU: When Clarke Griffin of the Griffin Books corporate superstore opens a new location near Bellamy Blake's small bookstore, Oedipus Texts, they hate each other on principle. Little do they know, they’ve been anonymously communicating with --and falling for-- each other on reddit for the past several months. </p><p>Can you really know (and fall in love with) someone that you've just been messaging online? What will happen when they learn each other's true identity?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Front Page of the Internet

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: On reddit, when you message another user, an envelope at the top right corner of your screen turns orangered. /r/TopicAreaHere signify different subreddits or topic areas where you can post. Also, the pronunciation of orangered is a much debated topic on reddit. Some say orange-red. I, personally prefer to say it like the past tense of the verb oranger. Say it as you choose. :)

Clarke’s eating breakfast at their kitchen table and perusing a couple webcomics on her laptop while Wells grabs his briefcase and gulps down a few swallows of coffee. 

He kisses her on the forehead and chuckles lightly. “No one would believe how successful you are based on the amount of time you spend on the internet.” 

She swats at him, and wishes him a good day at work. She takes a breath as she opens the self-proclaimed “Front Page of the Internet,” and smiles when there’s a little orangered envelope in the right corner of the screen. 

_From: CaesarStabbedFirst_  
Subject: Autumn  
Message: Don’t you just love autumn in New York? When I see the school supplies in stores, it always makes me miss my sister. I know I saw her three weeks ago. You don’t need to tell me I’m ridiculous. She thinks so, too. She had this bright green backpack and bounded with excitement for school to start. When my mother was alive, she helped us count down the days. We were a weird family, I suppose. Wait, I’ve forgotten who I am talking to. I bet you enrolled in voluntary summer school. 

Clarke smiles. She clicks on his username and reddit-stalks him. They pretended that they didn’t do this for awhile, but one day, the temptation to tease him about his impassioned defense of Lando Calrissian was too strong to resist. 

He had responded to someone in /r/Philosophy who had a question about Socrates, and had answered an /r/AskReddit post asking who would win in a fight between Achilles and Genghis Khan. He maintained that Achilles literally had gods on his side, so no amount of strategy could be effective if the gods did not will it so. She rolls her eyes at the predictability of his answer. But then, she supposes, it might only be predictable to her. For a stranger, she thinks she knows him pretty well.

Clarke spends a while trying to come up with an argument for why Achilles would lose in that fight. She finally figures out the quickest way to exasperate him. 

_From: Huecompleteme_  
Subject: Heel  
Message: :) 

 

Later that evening when Clarke and Wells are at an impossibly dull political fundraiser, she almost wishes Achilles and Khan were there to liven up the party. Wells is a city councilor, and a likely future mayoral candidate, so they smile politely and glad-handed donors for what feels like years of her life.

When they get home, Wells kisses her and smiles at her softly. “I know you hate this kind of thing, but I appreciate you being there.”

“I don’t hate…” Clarke starts, but Wells stops her with a raise of his eyebrows. Clarke sighs, “okay, okay. Do you think it was obvious?”

He laughs, “just to me. I’m gonna take a shower, and wash the fundraising guts off of me. Want to join?”

“I’m pretty beat. I think I’ll just go to bed.”

After she gets ready for bed, she burrows under the covers with her phone. She clicks on the compose message button.

_From: Huecompleteme_  
Subject: ...  
Message: Tonight was full of uninteresting people competing about the most meaningless life accomplishments. It was all the same old boring stilted conversations. I had to be the polite and smiling hostess. People asked what was going on in my life, and didn’t wait for an answer. They talked about what they read, but not what the books meant to them. It made me want to pull out my hair. Do you ever feel like that? I bet you don’t. I feel like if you were there, you would have made everyone feel so foolish for thinking so small and thinking they are living so big. I wish I had your courage sometimes. 

She falls asleep thinking that she wore her heart on her sleeve a bit more than she usually does when she messages him.

She reads his response in the morning while she’s brushing her teeth, and can’t get him out of her head the rest of the day.

_From: CaesarStabbedFirst_  
Subject: Re: ...  
Message: Courage, I wish. Sometimes I think I’ve just fallen into the life I have now. For a while, it was all I could do. But, I had these dreams, these ideas of what I can learn and find. I think I’m so afraid of failure that I won’t even try. I don’t think I would’ve really been able to shock any of your dinner guests, anyway. I would’ve spent the whole night trying to get a real smile out of the hostess. 

She has an embarrassing smile on her face, when she runs into Raven in the lobby of Griffin Books the next morning.

“What’s up with you?” Raven asks immediately.

“Nothing,” Clarke replies trying to squash her grin.

“You’re in love,” Raven hedges.

“What? No! I’m not. I mean yes, of course I’m in love. With Wells. We spend practically all of our time together. I am in love.” 

Raven eyes Clarke with confusion. “Alright weirdo. Ready to visit the new store?”

“Absolutely!” Clarke exclaims, happy to change the subject. “Brooklyn won’t know what hit them.”

_______________________

 

Bellamy is brushing his teeth as he browses reddit. When he switches subreddits he sees an orangered in the corner of his screen. 

_From: Huecompleteme_  
Subject: unlikely friends????  
Message: Today, I saw a pigeon and a dog sitting together on a park bench. It felt like it was surely a coincidence, but when I would run past they would both follow me with their heads. Are they friends? Is there a stray dog and pigeon friendship contingent that I should know about? 

They go back and forth throughout the morning on whether or not pictures of interspecies friendships are overrated. He, of course, maintains they are. His sister, Octavia, has sent a few hundred too many pictures of hippos with tortoise besties for him to concede the point.

A few days later, he sees an orangered, while he’s waiting for the Subway.

_From: Huecompleteme_  
Subject: Family drama  
Message: My mom is getting married. I feel like she hasn’t really dated anyone since my dad passed away, so I guess it’s good. It still feels weird, though. I suppose I can’t expect her to wear black the rest of her life. I know we kind of try to steer clear of specifics about family, but… any advice? 

_From: CaesarStabbedFirst_  
Subject: Re: Family drama  
Message: It’s not too specific. I’m glad you asked. My parents aren’t around, but I can imagine how strange it must feel. When someone passes away, it’s not just your relationship with them that changes. You have to re-evaluate and re-form the relationship with everyone you have in common. I’m sure that was the hardest with your mom. If she seems happy, and the fiancé is a good man, try to be happy for her. You can still vent to your friends (and to me of course), but it really is good that she is trying to move on. Hang in there, pal. 

He anxiously awaits her response the rest of the day.

_From: Huecompleteme_  
Subject: Re: Re: Family drama  
Message: Thanks. I really appreciate it and you. You shouldn’t have opened yourself up for venting, though. I try not to complain to my friends, so I’ll probably just pile it all on you now. 

He's shaken out of his thoughts by one of his employees. 

“Bad news,” Jasper exclaims. 

The next few days, he and his employees try to mentally and financially prepare for the news that a Griffin Books superstore is opening just around the corner. 

Monty, one of his booksellers, tries to convince them that this could be good news. 

“This area can be like the Hell’s Kitchen of books!” he tries.

Jasper and Bellamy both scoff. Even Miller, Monty’s usually indulgent boyfriend gives him a disbelieving look. Monty continues undeterred, “if they don’t have an obscure book on Greek mythology, we can step in.”

“Or,” Bellamy drawls, “in the much more likely case that they have it or can order it easily, hopefully that person just comes here first or we will go out of business.”

They sit in silence for awhile in Bellamy’s loft apartment above the store. Their other friends had all left an hour or so earlier, so the staff at Oedipus Texts (plus Monty’s other half) can whine amongst themselves in peace. Bellamy heads to the kitchen to grab a few more beers for everyone, and Jasper follows closely behind. Bellamy turns to see Jasper standing behind him with hunched shoulders and furrowed brows.

“It’s gonna be okay, right? We’re gonna be okay?” Jasper asks in a small voice.

Bellamy forces a smile then claps Jasper on the back as he hands him a beer. “We’ll be fine. This is Brooklyn, remember? No one will want to be caught dead in a chain superstore.”

Jasper nods his head in acceptance, and heads back into the living room. Bellamy rubs his eyes and hopes to God he’s right.

_From: Huecompleteme_  
Subject: Ferry rides  
Message: I took the ferry today. I don't live in Staten Island, but when I feel uninspired, I sometimes will ride the ferry back and forth all day just watching the people. New Yorkers and tourists alike. I'll sketch them, and make up little stories about their lives. He is a house painter, who refuses to paint any house in a dull color. She works in the finance industry, and misses her family in Iowa so much it hurts sometimes. One couple fell in love after they got in a car crash that left her with a broken arm. Say what you will about this city, but the people... The people are pretty great. 

It’s like the people in Williamsburg have increased tenfold based on the thousands of people that seem to be streaming into the Griffin Books store in the week that it opens. Bellamy knows without even looking at their finances that the sales are way down. His suspicions are confirmed the next week when he peeks into the back office, and sees Jasper with his face in his hands trying to hold it together.

He is feeling down, so he reddit-stalks HueCompleteMe for a while that night to distract himself. How she-- or anyone-- could feel that passionate about the right popcorn to butter to salt ratio is beyond him. The ardency with which she defends Arsenal’s trading decisions is unsurprising, but it brings a slight smile to his face. He finally gathers up the courage to message her.

_From: CaesarStabbedFirst_  
Subject: Back to Brave  
Message: I was thinking again today about how I lead a small life. I work, I have friends, I date occasionally. But honestly, my life just happens to me. I never put myself out there. I don’t take any risks, professionally or personally. Sometimes I think I’m going to spend my whole life without really doing anything at all. 

Her reply comes through less than an hour later.

_From: HueCompleteMe_  
Subject: Re: Back to Brave  
Message: I’m sure you’re doing good things. You’re a good person. I’m sorry that things are rough right now (or I’m assuming). I can return your offer for advice? Even in person? 

In the morning, Bellamy thinks of how to phrase the response. They can’t meet. His business is going under, and dealing with his confusing feelings for a stranger would only exacerbate his stress. He finally types out a response as he’s about to open the shop.

_From: CaesarStabbedFirst_  
Subject: Re: Re: Back to Brave  
Message: You’re right. I’m having a tough time right now, but it might cross the “too personal / specific” line we carefully toe. 

He doesn’t mention them meeting up. He’s a coward. He admitted that to her, so she shouldn’t be surprised. She responds again a few hours later.

_From: HueCompleteMe_  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Back to Brave  
Message: That’s fine. Is it a relationship thing? 

He’s grinning at her awkward and obvious response, when he hears the front door to the shop opening. Monty greets this new customer warmly, and she walks towards the section on Greek art. Though momentarily frozen at the surprise of a new customer, especially a young, and beautiful new customer-- most of his customers are bookish professors-- he recovers quickly. She’s flipping through a book on Post-Byzantine art when he walks over to her, and gives her his most winning smile.

“Good afternoon. I’m Bellamy. Are you finding everything alright?”

She nods politely at him. “I’m fine. Thank you.” With that this mysterious blonde woman, goes back to browsing the shelves. 

Unused to his charm being ineffective, Bellamy looks back towards Monty who shrugs his shoulders. Bellamy is determined to soldier on, though. The shop really only succeeds due to the connection the customers feel to the store.

“Are you looking broadly for information on the Cretan school of art?” he asks.

She considers him briefly and tilts her head to the side. “I’m open to suggestions.”

With that, his lips curl back into a smile as he picks up a book on the next shelf. “This is, in my opinion, the best book representing the time period.”

She raises her eyebrows. “In your opinion, huh?”

“I’m a pretty good judge. I do own this bookshop.” Bellamy winks before continuing. If she was impressed, it did not show. “The book does focus specifically on El Greco, which limits it some. But, it came out last year and there’s a ton of new research in it that’s just fascinating. The author spent a year in Venice, and really got an interesting handle on his earlier life and work that’s just lacking in so many of the other accounts of the artist.”

Finally, finally, she smiles up at him. Apparently, all it took was him rambling about El Greco. 

He shakes his head and adds, “sorry. Obviously I have some thoughts on the matter.”

She takes the book, and walks back towards the front of the shop. “It’s fine. Obviously it worked; I’m buying the book,” she replies with a grin.

As Monty checks her out, he asks, “you’re going to come back here, aren’t you?”

She looks between the two of them with her mouth in a tight line before responding, “absolutely.”

“See!” Monty exclaimed with a grin. “We’ll be fine. As long as we have loyal customers, Oedipus Texts will continue to thrive.”

Though Bellamy wishes Monty wouldn’t air their dirty laundry in front of strangers, his excitement was infectious, so it’s hard to be mad.

“I apologize for Monty here. The monstrosity that is Griffin Books opened a new store a couple blocks away. We have a passionate customer base, that hopes to talk to booksellers who have actually read the books they are recommending, so we’re not worried.”

The woman handed Monty cash for the book and headed back out with a murmured thank you. 

Bellamy watches after her for a minute before Monty sighs dramatically, “well you sure struck out there, boss.”

He shakes his head and chuckles. A few customers come in and out the rest of the day, but it’s nothing Monty can’t handle, so Bellamy reddit messages HueCompleteMe back and forth in between contacting authors and warehouses.

_From: CaesarStabbedFirst_  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Back to Brave  
Message: It is not relationship problems. Real subtle, by the way. It’s an issue with my business. 

_From: HueCompleteMe_  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Back to Brave  
Message: I wasn’t trying anything, you ass! I’m an excellent businesswoman. What is your issue? What is your business? I’m sure I can help. 

_From: CaesarStabbedFirst_  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Back to Brave  
Message: A competitor has recently overtaken a great deal of our business. We were hoping the customer base wouldn’t shift so quickly, but we’re bleeding fast. We’ve kind of tried to stay out of a confrontation, but I’m starting to think we have to act. 

_From: HueCompleteMe_  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Back to Brave  
Message: You absolutely have to act! Fight! It’s a cutthroat world. If you don’t fight for what you want, you’ll lose what you already have. Did Alexander the Great just sit around in Greece, or did he fight for the strength of his Empire?! (Okay, maybe don’t invade Persia). 

Bellamy laughs at her obvious pandering, but decides she has a good point. He needs to learn about this company that’s taking all of his customers. After a quick google search of Griffin Books, his jaw drops. Right there, in the “about us” section on their website is a picture of the CEO, Clarke Griffin, smiling while standing by a bookshelf. A CEO who he saw in his store not three hours before. That’s it. This means war. And he’s ready for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! First chapter! I'm super excited about this story, and hope y'all like it so far. 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr at [legividivici!/](http://legividivici.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also, I know that's not quite how reddit's messaging system works. I just wanted to simplify it for clarity.


	2. The Café

A couple of weeks after the Griffin Books has opened in Williamsburg, Clarke gets a youtube link from Raven with a “you better watch this” attached. She gets out of bed, and wanders to the kitchen where she opens her laptop to watch the video. Her mouth gapes open when she sees who is on screen. Bellamy Blake is being interviewed in his bookshop by John Jacobs, an NBC reporter, who looks completely smitten with Bellamy's underdog story. There have been some minor protests outside the store, but there hadn’t yet been any real media present.

“Mr. Blake, how long has your store, Oedipus Texts, been on this block?”

“Please call me Bellamy, John. My mother opened this store in 1981. It’s been in our family for almost 25 years. It was her pride and joy.” Bellamy flashes a winning smile before adding jokingly, “other than me and my sister of course.”

John laughs as Clarke scowls at Bellamy’s blatant manipulation of the reporter and probably the thousands of people who have already watched the video.

“Alright, then, Bellamy. Have you thought about meeting Clarke Griffin, and trying to happily coexist?”

Bellamy gets this almost dangerous spark in his eye before answering. “I have already had the privilege, John.” Clarke’s eyes widen and panic sets in as she prepares to hear his version of the story.

The reporter has moved from being casually charmed by this smalltime bookstore owner to being hungry for the story. “Is that so?”

“She came by our little book shop, actually. It seems Griffin Books doesn’t have quite the extensive history section it advertises. It was really sweet. She asked for my expert recommendation, and bought a book. I hope she’s enjoying it! She can come back any time for more advice on what to read. No hard feelings at all.” He paused before winking and saying, “That offer doesn’t just go for Ms. Griffin. If anyone else is worried about going to Griffin Books, and coming out empty-handed, we at Oedipus Texts are glad to help.”

Clarke slams her laptop shut with a vengeance. When she went into that stupid book store, she knew it was a bad idea. Her mild curiosity got to the better of her. She did not realize, however, how hard it would bite her in the ass. He’d made her and her company look so foolish. How could she have thought him sweet and his book shop endearing?

Wells comes back from a run, gets one look at Clarke’s glare and stumbles a bit. “Wow! You look like you are about ready to murder someone. Should I not ask? Plausible deniability and all that.”

If Wells expected her to laugh, he was disappointed because she continues glaring at the wall with her arms crossed.

“Seriously, though, are you okay? What’s going on?”

She attempts a smile up at Wells, but it looks more like a grimace. “It’s work stuff. There’s a small bookshop around the corner from one of our new locations.”

“Oh? Are they a threat?”

At that, Clarke manages a real smile. “Nope. But we are.”

 _From: HueCompleteMe_  
_Subject: Times Square  
_ _Message: Times Square is terrifying. I know that you'll just say that's why Brooklyn is better, but I don't understand why people insist on dragging me to Times Square whenever they visit._

 _From: CaesarStabbedFirst_  
_Subject: Re: Times Square  
_ _Message: That’s why Brooklyn is better. (See! I proved you right)._

ABC's Barbara Jennings raises an eyebrow at Clarke after they've gotten through the basics of the new store opening, and other recently announced locations. “Now, Clarke, you’ve probably noticed that the story about you and the owner of Oedipus Texts’ first meeting has made quite the rounds on the internet. It’s all over the tumblr, twitter, readit.” (“Reddit!” Clarke corrects internally).

Clarke laughs with an overly sweet smile. “I did visit their little shop a while back. Honestly, I was mildly curious at what they sold. As a bookseller myself, I am often interested in how other bookstores-- even the smallest ones-- are doing. I don’t know many people who go to a bookstore to buy one specific genre of book. And the name, Oedipus Texts? I thought it was all very quaint.”

Clarke believes that her interview has firmly pushed any interest in that stupid book store away until she sees another story of Bellamy Blake with a tremor in his voice and tears glistening in his eyes while he talks about how his mother named the store.

She grumbles to herself as she wanders out to get lunch. Most Griffin Books locations don’t have that extensive of a history selection, but she went full force after Bellamy’s first interview. She’s been happy to see that their sales have been steady despite the negative media coverage. Apparently, not everyone watches local news.

She’s riding the elevator to her apartment down to take a run in Central Park, when she sees a message on reddit that stops her heart in her chest.

 _From: CaesarStabbedFirst_  
_Subject: Help me invade Persia  
__Message: Do you still want to meet?_  

 

Raven is messing with her. There’s no possible way that Bellamy fucking Blake is at the corner table with a book of Greek poems and a sunflower. She takes a deep breath, and walks up to the window. Sure enough, Bellamy is there, irritatingly handsome as ever, carelessly flipping through the book that she knows he has read countless times. She leans against the outside of the restaurant and exhales loudly.

She turns to look at Raven who seems to be having a difficult time holding in a laugh. Clarke stands slack-jawed as all of their conversations about life and literature flash through her head. “This can’t be happening.” At that, Raven does start to laugh.

Clarke shakes her head. “This is so unfunny. This is maybe the least funny thing to ever happen. I am halfway in love with a stranger who turns out to be the biggest asshole in… in… I don’t know.” 

Raven catches her breath after a couple of moments, then chuckles again. “It absolutely is funny. In that, your life is ridiculous, and this would only happen to you.” Raven reaches up and pats her shoulder, “maybe this is what you get for worrying that he might not be attractive. He’s definitely hot. In fact, maybe you should go for it. Imagine the hate sex. Just for a minute.”

Raven’s tone is mock serious, and Clarke doesn’t think she’s ever hated anyone more than she hates Raven right now. That’s not true, she hates Bellamy Blake more. Hates him for being so wonderful online, but somehow the biggest dick in person.

Raven backs off at Clarke’s glare. “Have it your way. Let’s go grab a beer.” Clarke stares back into the café numbly again, and shakes her head.

“I’m gonna go inside. I have to just… be sure. Maybe it isn’t him.” Raven looks at Clarke incredulously, but knows better than to push it.

“Alright, buddy. I’ll see you tomorrow at work, then?” Clarke nods and turns back to the door.

She takes a deep breath before pushing the door open. When the door chimes, Bellamy looks up toward the door with so much hope and excitement, Clarke feels like someone punched her in the stomach. How could they be so wrong about what this meant? Maybe Bellamy wasn’t the asshole she had thought?

When he sees that it’s her, he scowls, and buries his head back into his book.  Her thought of maybe-she-was-wrong-about-him vanishes in the same moment. She scans the room, with a faux bored expression on her face, pretending not to see him. It’s childish and stupid, but he seems to bring out the worst in her.

Clarke saunters over to his table, and says “Oh, hi Mr. Blake. How are you doing this evening? Doing some light reading?” She motions to his huge book of Greek poetry. He mumbles a hello, then refocuses on his book. Undeterred, Clarke continues, “A sunflower. An unusual bookmark, but I can imagine your little shop is really trying anything to keep running.” There’s fire in his eyes, but he seems determined not to engage.

She eventually settles for the table just diagonal from his. He grumbles under his breath, then looks up at the door again when someone walks in. It’s a pregnant woman. “Hot date?” Clarke asks. Bellamy continues to ignore her. He keeps running his hands through his hair nervously. It would be easier if she could just hate him, but she keeps thinking of their many deep conversations. That doesn't stop her from making rude comments at him while he pointedly reads his book.

When the waitress comes by an hour later, she asks if Bellamy wants a refill of his tea, which he politely declines. Unable to resist, Clarke tuts, “Is your financial situation that bad? Don’t worry, Mr. Blake. I can cover a tea refill.”

Bellamy slams his hands on the counter before rounding on her. “Money, that’s it. That’s all you’ve got. You don’t have family or friends, so you just wave your money around. Is it true that your only friend is your assistant? You may be more successful than I’ll ever be. Hell, you may bankrupt my bookstore. But, I have friends and family, and you just have your meaningless conglomerate to keep you company. Well, it’s all yours, Princess.”

He shakes his head after that. Seemingly shocked at his own audacity. “That was so uncalled for. I… I never talk that way. I... I had a rough evening, but that’s no excuse.” She puts her hand up to stop him.

“I was horrible to you all night. I think I had it coming.” She lays a $20 bill on his table. “Since I offered to pay for your tea with all my empty, meaningless money.”

She glances back to see him gaping at her, and barely makes it a block away before she starts crying

 ______________________________________________

 

Bellamy’s step is heavier the next day. He has to force himself not to check reddit every five minutes to see if she messaged him back. He was stubbornly avoiding reddit in general since he messaged her late the night before with, “So…?” He was determined not to sound desperate. He felt like a fucking idiot. He shouldn’t have suggested they meet. She obviously didn’t want to. Was she kidding when she first suggested it? And, now, she probably would stop messaging him on reddit. He would just have to read her posts in /r/studioart and /r/soccer.

He dreaded going to the bookstore. Why did he tell his co-workers about her? Jasper seemed more excited about the date than he was. “It’s not a date!” Bellamy had insisted repeatedly to no avail.

When Bellamy walks through the door, and sees Monty already at the register. “Heya boss,” Monty greets with a smile before noticing Bellamy’s sullen expression. At Monty’s raised eyebrows, Bellamy just shakes his head, and wanders to re-organize the bookshelves. He goes to the back office a couple hours later, and is shocked when Jasper doesn’t stop number crunching to grill him about the evening. Monty must have talked to him. Bellamy is relieved. Avoiding one of his employees made him feel even more pathetic. 

They hadn’t even known each other for very long. They met in /r/NYC debating museums last fall. She was foolishly recommending the Guggenheim over the Tenement Museum. After they drove all the other users away from the post, they continued their argument over reddit message. A week after that, she sent him a link to someone suggesting someone go to the top of the Empire State building and a message that said “WE HAVE TO STOP THIS MADNESS!” After that, they got along.

They never discussed personal lives in too much detail, but he felt like he knew her. He felt like she knew him. The more he thought about it, the more embarrassed he became. She was a stranger on the internet. Why did he let himself grow so attached? To make things worse, the store was still swiftly going under, and Griffin Books was doing great. At least Octavia was coming home from Christmas break. Even if the worst did happen, Octavia’s college fund was secure, and Bellamy had some money tucked away.

_From: CaesarStabbedFirst_  
_Subject: Last Night_  
_Message: I felt so horrible and alone. I thought about not messaging you again. Not asking what happened because I was embarrassed. But, what does not being embarrassed do for me? I don’t know you, really. But, I know that you hate all movie sequels except Aliens. I like to think that Empire Strikes Back was starting to win you over, though. Our conversations meant a lot to me, and if this is it, then I just wanted to say thanks. Thanks for being my friend, random internet stranger._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know what you thought by kudos, comment, etc! They help guide me and motivate me as I write.
> 
> I'm also on tumblr at [legividivici](http://legividivici.tumblr.com/) and I would love to hear from you there!


	3. The Greek Tragedy

She knew he would message her. How could he not? He surely felt the--- whatever it was-- they had over reddit. He was probably shocked. Not as shocked as she was, surely. But, still shocked.

She had been nervous, and he must have been as well. But it was the excited type of nervous. The nerves you get when you know your life is about to change. Like their meeting would change everything. It kind of did for Clarke. She now knew she couldn’t trust how she was feeling. Any lingering doubts about her middling relationship with Wells were squashed. 

When she returned home the night before-- after walking around the city for awhile to calm herself down-- she saw his message. It made her angry. Angry at him for being Bellamy Blake. 

Nearly a full day later, Clarke just feels numb. She stares blankly at her computer screen as she thinks of what she could possibly say. Despite everything, she can’t just ignore him. He may be a pain in her ass professionally, but he’s also been a strangely important part of her life for the last year. Wells is working late tonight, so she spends her time going back to the open message to CaesarStabbedFirst-- Bellamy--she corrects herself, and watching campy Sci-Fi. Eventually she decides going for a lighthearted apology is the best approach.

_From: Huecompleteme_  
Subject: Re: Last Night  
Message: I’m sorry about last night. I will admit, you are right about Empire Strikes Back. Still friends? 

Clarke has honestly never been more nervous about a message she’s sent him. Including when she suggested they meet. This is it. What if he takes her avoidance of the topic as a sign they shouldn’t talk anymore? It’s stupid. She knows it’s stupid. Now that she knows who he is, it shouldn’t matter. She tries to tell herself that it doesn’t. She knows she’s lying. She will just ignore who he is, and continue to smile when he tells her a story about his sister or posts a picture of a bird he saw in Prospect Park. 

Her breath catches an hour later when she sees his reply.

_From: CaesarStabbedFirst_  
Subject: Re: Re: Last Night  
Message: I don’t know if we can still be friends. I mean it took an awful lot to convince you that Empire Strikes Back is a masterpiece. That takes a normal person 15 minutes tops. Han Solo going into the blizzard on Hoth to rescue Luke. Easily a classic. 

She lays her head back against the couch and sighs in relief. Well, at least she still has her no-longer-anonymous internet friend.

The next month, it goes back to a kind of normal between them. They still message each other almost daily. Sometimes with frivolous things, but sometimes more serious. Strangely, their almost meet-up seems to have led to even more openness between them.

_From: CaesarStabbedFirst_  
Subject: Christmastime  
Message: Christmas was always my mom's favorite holiday. She would sing carols and take us ice skating in Central Park. She used to say the snow is like a layer of fairy dust over the city. As I got older, it was hard to resist mentioning the grimy grey slush the snow turned into, but I was always quieted by the look of absolute joy on her face. It takes a lot to quiet my inner (and outer) smartass, so you've got to try to imagine her smile. I wonder if it'll ever stop feeling like something critical is missing from our lives every December. 

Wells and Clarke are headed back to their apartment after a celebratory dinner with Clarke’s mom and Kane. Her mom had just issued a press release on their engagement, so the four went out to celebrate the news. Clarke was glad she had taken Bellamy’s advice. The more she watched her mother with Kane, the clearer it was that her mom was happier than she had been in a long time. 

She and Wells get into the elevator and laugh as they both reach to push the 6th floor button at the same time. Somewhere between the third and fourth floor, the elevator lurches. They look at each other with mild concern, both expecting the elevator to creak back to life again. After another minute, Clarke sighs, and picks up the red emergency phone. 

It looks like it will be almost an hour before they are freed, so they settle across from each other on the ground of the elevator. Wells pulls out the book he’s reading-- a recent biography of Mary McLeod Bethune. Clarke reaches for her phone only to find that there’s no service. She’s disappointed. Earlier, she had messaged Bellamy about how she went to the Guggenheim, and she was so right about how wonderful it was. She was looking forward to his smart ass response. When she realizes she can’t message Bellamy, she thinks of all the stories from her day she is suddenly desperate to tell him.

Instead, she pulls out her sketch pad, and flips through her most recent drawing. It’s of a couple at the Guggenheim. They’re probably a few years younger than Clarke. The woman has her head on her partner’s shoulder. It’s of their backs, but you can tell so much about them from their body language. Their shoulders are relaxed. His hand casually wrapped around her arm. Her thumb in the beltloop of his jeans. She wants to show Bellamy. Her brow furrows as she tries to understand why. She thinks about showing Wells, but for some reason she’s reluctant to.

She looks up at Wells, who has been her best friend and partner for over half her life. He must feel her eyes on him because he looks over to her.

“You doing okay, Clarke?”

She smiles at him. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

Wells huffs a laugh. “Oh, good. That clears things up.” But, sensing she needs more time to form her thoughts, he goes back to reading his book.

A few minutes later, she starts again. “Do you ever feel like you’re just going through the motions?”

Wells closes his book. “Honestly? Half of the time. Maybe more than that. I don’t know.”

Clarke crawls over to the other side of the elevator and intertwines their hands. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Two hours later, Clarke is at Raven’s door with a suitcase and a bottle of wine.

____________________________________________________________________

 

Bellamy is in the back office of Oedipus Texts packing when Octavia comes around the corner.  
“Hey, bro”

He looks up at her, and smiles. “Octavia, I can’t believe you came.”

She wraps him up in a hug. “Are you kidding? I couldn’t let you do this by yourself.”

The moment is interrupted when a tumble of books fall, followed by Jasper’s “OUCH!” and then Monty yelling out, “he’s okay!”

Bellamy raises an eyebrow, which makes Octavia shake her head with a light chuckle.

“Well, I guess you wouldn’t quite be by yourself.” 

They both sit on the desk in silence for a few minutes with her head on his shoulder before she says, “I’m proud of you, you know.”

Bellamy furrows his brow, “what do you mean?”

Octavia exhales, and looks at her brother seriously. “The last few months with Griffin Books, and the store closing. I’m proud of you for closing Oedipus Texts.”

Bellamy walks to the other side of the room, and goes back to packing boxes. “You’re such a liar, O.”

Octavia stalks over to him, and makes him turn to face her. “Listen to me, Bellamy. I am proud of you. You made the hard decision, and now… you don’t know what’s next. You’ve always just done your duty, Bell. When we were kids, after mom died with me and the store. It feels like this is the first time you’re doing something for yourself.”

Bellamy eyes her incredulously before she continues.

Octavia softens at his self-doubt. She reaches out for his arm and smiles. “Seriously. I know you love this store, and it means something to you. It means something to both of us. But, you could do so much more.”

She pauses before adding, “she would want you to have your own dreams, Bell.”

Bellamy sighs before saying quietly, “it’s just been my whole life, you know.”

“I know.”

Hoping for a bit of levity, Bellamy and Octavia go back to the main room to help Jasper and Monty pack the bookshelves. 

A half hour later, Octavia exclaims, “this is depressing. Let’s turn this into a drinking game,” to cheers from his co-workers. 

Bellamy rolls his eyes and laughs. Maybe the next step won’t be that scary.

_From: CaesarStabbedFirst_  
Subject: Ch-ch-changes  
Message: My store closed today. I owned a bookstore. Did I ever tell you that? I guess not, we were never supposed to share personal details. That didn’t end up going terribly well today. Or ever, really. Who were we kidding? Well, anyway. I’m doing okay. My sister came down to help pack everything up. She was just down a few weeks ago for Christmas, but I’m really glad she was there. Apparently, my employees told her I was moping. Which, fair enough. It’s just scary, you know. This bookshop has been around my whole life. I haven’t quite figured out who I am without it. But here’s to what’s next. (raises beer) 

_From: HueCompleteMe_  
Subject: Re: Ch-ch-changes  
Message: (toasts beer). I’m sorry to hear about your store. Maybe what’s next will be even better? I feel like I know you pretty well, and I know you will succeed in whatever you do. Don’t worry! 

_From: CaesarStabbedFirst_  
Subject: Re: Re: Ch-ch-changes  
Message: Jesus, and I thought I was corny. 

_From: HueCompleteMe_  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Ch-ch-changes  
Message: I was trying to be supportive, asshole. 

A month later, Bellamy calls Octavia, giddy with excitement.

Music is blaring, and he can hear dozens of people in the background. She’s obviously studying hard for the midterms she’s been complaining for the last week.

“Hey big brother!” Octavia sings.

Someone is having a good night. “Are you celebrating the joys of midterms, O?”

“Yes!” she yells. “Sorry, let me go outside.”

A minute or so later, she asks, “so how is unemployment? Are you bored just staring at the wall all day?”

He grins at his baby sister’s subtlety. She knows he has been up to something the last month, and she does not do well with secrets being kept from her. Once, she discovered a half-naked girl in his room while trying to rout out why he rushed through dinner. Since then, she has been a bit more careful with her investigations.

“I got some news today,” Bellamy says evenly. Trying not to let the excitement creep into his voice just yet.

He can almost hear Octavia’s interest pique over the phone. “Is that so?”

“Mmhm,” he hums faux seriously. “Apparently, they put a couple idiots in charge at the NYU Classics Department.”

Octavia is silent, clearly expecting him to continue. He doesn’t. Instead, he waits for her to comment. 

“Is that so?” Octavia asks in a measured voice.

“That’s the only explanation. Unless you can think of another reason they would accept your big brother into their PhD program with--”

The rest of his sentence is cut off by Octavia’s squeals of excitement. “You did it! I knew you could do it, Bell!” 

He laughs with glee. “Don’t get too excited. I haven’t gotten the degree yet. I could show up just to be sent right back home.”

“Shut up! This is the best news. Oh my gosh. I’m so happy. Congrats!”

Distantly he hears someone call his sister’s name in the background.

“Get back to your party. I’ll tell you more about the program tomorrow.”

“I will take many a shot in your honor!”

“Be careful! At least tell me Lincoln is moderately sober.”

“He’s DD,” Octavia assures Bellamy, “bye, Bell. Love you!”

Before she hangs up, he hears her yell, “Lincoln! Lincoln! Guess what!”

He chuckles at his little sister’s antics. God, he misses her. The four years with her at Syracuse have felt painfully long. Thankfully, she is planning to move back to Brooklyn when she finishes her senior year in a few months. With so many life changes, he’s relieved that their relationship is as strong as ever.

One day, as he walks by Griffin Books, he yields to temptation and heads inside. He goes to the history section, politely corrects a salesperson’s error, and just wanders the store for a while.

Lost in his thoughts, he misses a redhead trying to catch his eye near the coffee shop. Lost in his thoughts, he nearly trips on one of the scattered benches. Lost in his thoughts, he does not see Clarke Griffin watching him intently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, and sorry for the wait! Just one chapter left. I'm hoping to get it out next week to celebrate Bellarke and America at the same time. Let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is welcome. I'm still very new to writing.
> 
> What's that? You're looking for my tumblr? Look no further I'm [right here!](http://legividivici.tumblr.com/)


	4. The Process

For a moment, she can’t believe it’s him. Why would he be here, in her store? She hadn’t seen him in months. Since that awful night in the café. She knows, obviously, that his bookshop had closed. She heard that he had started at NYU. He was getting his PhD in Classics. Or so they said. It was odd how invested and interested the New York literary community had grown in his life. Well, that’s what she told herself. She, too, had fallen victim to his charm. Only online, though. That shouldn’t count.

When she sees him, he’s by the Ancient History section, naturally. He’s flipping through a book, and pauses to turn in her direction. Thinking he has seen her, she ducks behind a bookshelf. She needn’t have worried, though.

“Excuse me,” he says interrupting one of her employees and a customer who were discussing a book.

They both turn to Bellamy in slight confusion.

He clears his throat, “sorry, it’s just Baruch Spinoza is Latin, not Greek. That’s probably why you’re having trouble finding his work in this section.”

Clarke clunks her head against the bookshelf as they thank him, and wander in a different direction. She spends the next week trying to erase the memory of helpful, sweet Bellamy from her brain.

They’re sitting on Clarke’s couch in her fancy new apartment drinking beer, and Raven has a-- frankly-- absurd smile on her face. 

“It’s stupid, really. I can’t believe I fell for that idiot.” Raven rolls her eyes, presumably at herself.

Clarke chuckles. “You did seem to suddenly care a lot more about making better model boats, than uhhh… anything else.”

Raven and Wick had met on Conservatory Water while racing model boats the last spring. Raven had only done it casually before, but the temptation to “wipe the smirk off that asshole’s face” was too tempting to resist. He felt similarly, it turned out.

Raven takes a big sip of her beer and crosses her legs under her. “I’m just glad we figured it out.”

Clarke clinks her beer to Raven’s and smiles. “You deserve to be happy. I’m glad you two crazy kids stopped yelling at each other look enough to actually go on a date.”

Raven shoves Clarke good-naturedly. A few minutes later, though, she sighs. “I didn’t know that I could have this. Not everyone gets to feel this way, you know? Or find someone that fills you emotionally and intellectually. Someone that lights your senses on fire. Have you ever felt like that?”

Clarke chokes on her beer. Raven leans over and pats her on the back.

“You all right there?” Raven asks.

Clarke takes another gulp. “Absolutely,” she lies. “Just went down the wrong pipe.”

The next morning, Clarke groans at her alarm clock. It’s Saturday, she’s pretty sure. So, why was she waking up so goddamn early? Oh, right. Wick and Raven’s big spring model boat competition was today. They begrudgingly agreed to collaborate to make, in Wick’s words, “the best motherfucking boat in the history of motherfucking boats.” He’s eloquent, that man. Raven is a lucky lady.

After Clarke’s mildly disturbing revelation about Bellamy the night before, she had perhaps drank a bit more than would be advised. No matter, she would struggle through it as best as she could. She drinks several glasses of water with a couple aspirin, takes a quick shower, and grabs a banana before hurrying to Central Park.

As she watches Raven and Wick shout and curse their way to victory, then suspiciously disappear for 15 minutes only to return looking decidedly disheveled, Clarke thinks again about Raven’s comments from the night before. Someone who lights your senses on fire.

Clarke wishes she didn’t know what Raven meant. That the feeling she described was a foreign idea. Unfortunately, Bellamy Blake seems determined to make her life difficult. To be fair to him, though, this part was likely unintentional.

That Sunday, a message from Bellamy forces her to finally, finally, do something about it.

_From: CaesarStabbedFirst_  
Subject: Manhattan isn’t all bad  
Message: My favorite part of the high line is no longer under construction. My brown bag lunch has been elevated—literally. Life is grand. 

_From: Huecompleteme_  
Subject: Re: Manhattan isn’t all bad  
Message: Do mine eyes deceive me? You admitting there is something good about Manhattan? What is the world coming to? 

That Monday, she casually walks around the high line during her lunch break. Also, that Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. That Friday, as she’s nearly given up hope, Clarke sees him in right by the Chelsea entrance.

She approaches him cautiously. She has no idea how he might react to her. Presumably, he’s cooled down some since his store closed. She’s afraid to be too bold, though.

While she’s still deciding exactly what to say to him, he looks up. His eyes widen when he sees her. He nods at her, and makes to continue eating his sandwich. 

Clarke decides his passive nod is an invitation to join him. She sits on the bench and pulls out her spinach salad. They sit there eating their lunches in silence for a few minutes before he finally turns back to her.

He clears his throat. Clarke shrugs her shoulders as though their meeting was a coincidence.

“I’m assuming you’re sitting here for a reason, Ms. Griffin.”

“Please, call me Clarke. I think we’re past formalities, don’t you?”

His eyebrows raise. “I suppose so.”

“What are you doing these days, since… you know?”

He doesn’t seem to be angry. On the contrary, he looks rather amused by Clarke’s forwardness. 

“Well, I started my PhD at NYU in Classics. I’ve had some free time after I suffered a few professional disappointments.”

Clarke is taken aback by Bellamy’s teasing tone. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Clarke says with exaggerated regret in her voice.

“No. I can’t imagine you are.”

His teasing tone gone, she sobers immediately. “I am glad to hear you’re doing well, though.”

At that, Bellamy chuckles. “I said nothing of the sort.” After a moment, he adds, “I am, though, doing well.”

She smiles at him, and goes back to her salad. She’s too afraid to interrupt the brief calm over their conversation.

A few minutes later, he rises and notes that he has to go back to campus. She waves goodbye, and sits on the bench for another hour. She sketches his face over and over again hoping that will offer her some form of comfort. In the end, she admits to herself that it went as well as she could’ve expected.

It’s the following Tuesday, and they’re sitting on the same bench on the high line with their lunches. 

When he first arrived, he barely looked surprised to see her sitting there. 

He takes a few bites of his leftovers before asking her “how are you doing these days? I heard you and Mayor-in-waiting Jaha are no more.”

Clarke is caught off guard, whether by the fact that he heard or that he brought it up, she’s not sure. She composes herself quickly, though. “It just wasn’t in the cards, I suppose. What about you? Whatever happened to your woman from the café?”

Bellamy chuckles darkly. “That, that was a pipe dream. I’m pretty good at aiming straight for the middle, and pulling it off. That, however, that girl was me launching myself into the sky without a parachute on a homemade rocket.”

A laugh escapes Clarke’s throat. “What vivid imagery. Are you sure you shouldn’t get your PhD in literature, Dr. Blake?” She’s flirting. Shit. She should not be flirting. 

He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t mind, as he just continues. “I don’t actually know what happened. We were supposed to meet up. We obviously didn’t, but maybe it was for the best.”

Clarke eyes him skeptically. “Do you really believe that?”

He laughs. “No, but telling myself that every once in a while makes me feel better.”

“Fair enough.”

Clarke digs through her leftovers for a few minutes before starting again.

“My assistant, you know. The only friend I have that I had to hire, etc.”

Bellamy cringes at the memory of their conversation. “Probably not my finest moment.”

Clarke shakes her head. “Oh, I totally deserved it. Well, anyway, she and her boyfriend are doing this model boat competition on Saturday morning.” She pauses and takes a breath. “If you’re not doing anything, you should swing by. It’s near the Krebs boathouse in Central Park.”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, so Clarke chances a look at him. He seems to be deep in thought.

“No pressure. It’s just something to do. Last week, you said you have all this free time now.” Clarke manages to fake a laugh.

His smile back at her is genuine. “I did say that, didn’t I? Well, maybe I’ll see you there.”

They eat for a few minutes longer, while he talks about the eccentricities of grad school. Eventually, Clarke has to go to make a conference call with the Mid-Western Sales Manager, so she wishes him goodbye.

Her heart skips momentarily when he calls out after her, “I’ll see you Saturday.”

It felt like it was going well, and that they were moving towards some sort of a friendship. They were going to see each other on Saturday. She was feeling pretty good about her plan, at least until a particular message makes her panic.

_From: CaesarStabbedFirst_  
Subject: Try try again  
Message: I know we never talked about what happened a few months ago, but I’d still like to meet. It doesn’t have to mean anything or be anything. Let me know. 

Clarke is horrified. If he finds out who she is now, it’ll all fall apart. She was just planting the seed the day before. Since when was he so eager to grab life by the horns? She expected she would get another month at least! After an hour of staring at her blinking cursor, she types out a response.

_From: Huecompleteme_  
Subject: Re: Try try again  
Message: I’d love to meet! I really want to meet. Right now, though, I am in the middle of a process. Once it is through, we should definitely meet. 

A half-hour after the boat competition, they are walking through Central Park with hot dogs trying to find shelter from the midday sun.

“A process! What does that even mean?!” Clarke exclaims as they settle under a tree.

“I have no idea,” he admits. “Honestly, a part of me was expecting her to ignore it or refuse completely. So, this feels better.”

Clarke shakes her head— at herself?— then continues. “A process… hmmm”

Bellamy shoves her lightly. “What? What are you thinking?”

Clarke decides she might as well have a little fun. “What if your mystery lady is, in fact, a mystery fellow?”

Bellamy tilts his head in thought, but seems unconcerned. “That would be a weird thing to lie about. She knew neither my gender or orientation when we started talking. We were just discussing literature.”

Clarke’s expression is carefully blank, but he barrels on. 

“In fact, I’m pretty sure she’s a woman, but she’s never mentioned a boyfriend or a girlfriend. It’s far more likely that she’s gay than male, which would also be a bummer. Except, maybe then I could convince myself that’s why she didn’t come to the café. We did have an extensive conversation about the supreme hotness of Natalie Portman.” 

Bellamy is joking, she knows. But Clarke thinks about the supreme hotness of Natalie Portman again, and is momentarily distracted.

Clarke finally laughs at his joke, and adds, “I can’t believe you met someone on reddit. It’s for sure a teenage boy.”

He scowls, and makes to shove her again, but she dodges him this time.

Bellamy rolls his eyes, but smiles at her. She feels her heart melt a bit. They’ve started to be friends over the last few weeks, but that is the first time she feels the full force of his unreserved smile.

That Tuesday she bites the bullet. 

_From: Huecompleteme_  
Subject: Re: Re: Try try again  
Message: I love Prospect Park. Do you? I’ll be there next Sunday afternoon sketching at Bailey Fountain. I hope I’ll see you there. 

 Thursday, they’re on the high line again. This time, they grabbed takeout together before heading to their bench.

  “I guess the process is over, then?” Clarke says.

“I guess so.”

 “Maybe she is in the process of getting a divorce,” Clarke guesses.

  “Maybe she is in the process of purchasing an island in the Seychelles,” Bellamy counters.

Clarke rolls her eyes at him. “A gold digger, huh? Who would’ve thought?!”

He laughs, and they settle back into their meals.   After a few minutes, Clarke asks, “what do you think she does?”

  “What?” 

Clarke subtly motions to the woman in the blue hat across from them. “It's a game. You try to imagine what their lives are like. These strangers.” 

  He's looking at her with with his head cocked to the side. 

“What? What? Do I have something on my face?”

He shakes his head before saying, "I just know someone else who does that."  

Shit. Clarke— online Clarke— must’ve told him about that. She recovers and says, "want to try?"  

Bellamy peers over the crowd. "See that woman in the green dress?" At Clarke's nod, he continues, "she's on her way to her first date since her husband passed away two years ago. She finally feels like she can have a real life again. She has one kid, he's 12. He was so excited for his mom. He helped her pick which shoes to wear."  

Clarke's looking at him softly. He grins over at her. "Your turn."   She smiles back. 

"Okay." She scans the crowd. "See that old couple over by the exposed track. They fell in love when they were just kids, but she moved away. Years later, he gets in a car crash, and she's his nurse. He remembers her right away, but it's not until he finally badgers her into a date that she realizes he is the sweet boy with dark eyes she climbed trees with."  

"And the rest was history?" Bellamy asks.   

"The rest was history," Clarke affirms.   

"What do you think people would make our story to be from afar?" Bellamy muses. 

  "Hmmm.." Clarke starts, "they would probably assume we owned competing businesses and one of us bankrupted the other."  

Bellamy huffs a loud laugh. "Well they'd be half right." 

She raises her eyebrows. "I'm not quite bankrupt, Ms. Griffin."

Bellamy stands and stretches, so she gathers their takeout boxes, and tosses them in the trash can.

“Good luck on your date,” Clarke says in a way she hopes sounds lighthearted.

“It’s not a date,” Bellamy chastises. She hates and loves how hopeful he sounds in equal measure. “I’ll see you later.” 

He makes to walk away, when she reaches out and grabs his hand.

He eyes their joined hands warily. “Clarke, you know that we can’t…”

Clarke stops him. “I know. I put you out of business. I was horrible to you and your bookstore with no remorse. It’s just sometimes I think… I think that if it were different…”

Bellamy looks away, and breathes out a shaky breath. “I know.”

Clarke chuckles, “it’s almost funny isn’t it? If I had just run into you in Central Park, I wouldn’t have been able to resist that furrow you get in your brow when you’re reading. I would’ve sat next to you, and asked what about your book had you so worked up. You would’ve startled at my voice, but then started complaining about how the author’s use of medieval imagery is ineffective. I would’ve listened to you for hours. If you didn’t ask for my number, I think I would’ve looked for you on that bench every damn day.”

She feels his eyes on her. When she looks up, his gaze is so intense, she’s tempted to look away again. “I would’ve asked for your number,” he says quietly.

She lets go of his hand, and says, “maybe I’ll find you on that bench someday.”

He smiles back at her sadly. As she walks away, she swears she hears him say, “maybe you will.”

___________________________________________________________

 

 He's walking in the park with his heart beating like a trapped bird in his chest. He was finally going to meet Huecompleteme. And finally learn her name so he didn’t have to refer to her in his head as Huecompleteme. There's no way, he's sure, that she’ll measure up to what he's built in his mind. His step quickens as he gets closer. He calms his breathing as he takes the final bend. He sees the fountain, and then he sees her.   

It’s Clarke fucking Griffin. Legs crossed in front of her. Biting her bottom lip as she sketches. Whether in nervousness or thought he doesn’t know.   He stands there dumbstruck for a minute just watching her. A smile takes over his face as he shakes his head in disbelief.   

His shocked laugh causes Clarke to look up and see him. She slowly rises and tucks her sketchpad in her bag. She walks over to him with trepidation. 

  As she reaches him, she tilts her head to the side and shrugs her shoulders. He runs his hand up from her arm to cradle her cheek. 

He gives her a half smile. "So," he says, "you've really wormed your way into my life haven't you?"  

Clarke beams back at him, "yeah. I guess I have." She throws her arms around his neck and kisses him with force.   If he was surprised by this, it doesn't show as he kisses her back with fervor. He moves his hand from her cheek to her hair, as he pulls her until she's flush against him. They break apart after a few minutes, but don't let go.   

Clarke looks at him with worry in her eyes, and whispers, "I thought there was a chance you would see me, and walk away. That I would lose you and you know, reddit you."   

He kisses her lips again briefly. "You can't get rid of me that easily." He chuckles again before continuing, "who would've thought I could fall in love with Clarke Griffin? Nobody would believe that." Clarke's breath stops before he adds, "Well, I might've believed it.”   Clarke giggles unabashedly before leaning back into him and peppering his face with kisses, as she whispers, "I love you... I love you... I love you."  

They break apart, and he gets this glint in his eyes before saying, “you know, a part of the process could still be buying an island in the Seychelles.” She shoves him, but she’s smiling like an idiot, so it’s ineffective at tamping down his spirit.

 They're walking down the path hand-in-hand when Clarke says, "so there's this cafe in West Village I've heard good things about."  

"Is that so?" Bellamy says. 

  "It is. I only went once, and it was kind of a bust, but I thought I might try it again."  

He laughs and pulls her into a kiss. "Lead the way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Th-th-th-th-that's all folks! Please give feedback, it helps me be a better writer. Thanks so much for reading my story, and come find me on tumblr at [legividivici](http://legividivici.tumblr.com/)


End file.
